


lullaby for insomniacs

by summerstorm



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Comfort, Comment Fic, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Can't sleep?" Pepper asks, arms crossing lightly over her stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lullaby for insomniacs

Natasha registers the flick of the light switch down the hall just before she hears footsteps, bare toes coming into view at the door to the living room as she drags her eyes off her laptop.

"Can't sleep?" Pepper asks, arms crossing lightly over her stomach. They pull her robe closed with them, and Natasha notices the faint tinge of pink on Pepper's hands as her fingers curl into her palms. It's warm for nighttime, but Pepper's body temperature always runs cold between sleep and her morning shower.

Natasha shrugs, but pushes the lid of the laptop shut. "Your ceiling gets boring to look at after a while."

"Well, I was told distractions weren't conducive to resting," Pepper says, warm despite the slight rise of her eyebrows.

"I don't know," Natasha says with a hint of a smile, "this always seems to work for you." It's teasing more than the honest truth; when Pepper's restless or worried or certain that Stark Industries is going to collapse unless she's physically present at headquarters, no matter how much work she's put into scheduling and delegating so the engines will continue to run even if the people don't follow through, there's nothing much that will put Pepper at ease or drag her away and to sweeter thoughts. Natasha can negotiate and even bodily nudge her to bed, but Pepper's mind will remain on the West Coast.

They're in Pepper's apartment now, and Natasha's fully here. As fully as she's ever anywhere, anyway. She just couldn't sleep, a combination of adrenaline from a late-night mission two days past, the thrumming of the plane she boarded last night, and plain damn jet lag. She works fine off of wiry energy, but she's not immune to it.

The couch cushions dip under Pepper's weight, and Natasha registers the tendency of Pepper's movement quickly enough to be pleased twice: to anticipate the soft knock of their shoulders just before it happens, and then feel the satiny fabric against her bare skin. Natasha's not immune to that, either.

"You didn't have to get up," she tells Pepper, but she leans into the touch, letting Pepper and the back of the couch share her weight. Tension drifts off her back the more spots on her body come into contact with Pepper: thighs lining together, Pepper's arm over the back of the couch so her breasts and ribs press against Natasha's arm. Pepper knows not to mess with Natasha's hair, and that is comforting in itself, the way Pepper's hand hovers casually behind Natasha before settling between her shoulderblades. Pepper rubs her thumb over the jutting bone, the depth of it, then the space between, in slow, soothing circles.

They sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and the closeness. After a while, Pepper rests her head on Natasha's shoulder, and Natasha snakes an arm around Pepper's waist. Natasha loves this, right here, the easy, trusting way Pepper burrows into her body, no fear, no reluctance, no defenses. It's hard to find someone who'll let all that strip away around Natasha, knowing who Natasha is, what she does, what she's done in the past. It's harder even to keep them—sometimes for them, sometimes for her.

Pepper breathes in calmly, and sits up, saying, "Come on." Her palm on the small of Natasha's back encourages Natasha to do the same, suggesting without insisting or pushing.

Natasha follows.


End file.
